I had just been thinking it was a pretty uneventful day's passage, much like any other, blue blue sea water, occasional squalls to send us running for cover, nothing of any particular note... but then two things happened.

Tulu was about 2 1/2 miles North East of us at the time and I was watching the clouds building up over her, thinking she'd be in for a squall. Then I shouted for Phil to come see: there was a distinct narrow cone forming downwards right towards Tulu, and above the water next to her I could see a swirling grey where the cone was pointing. Phil raised Tulu on the radio (in case they didn't know!) and his hailing got the response "Can't talk now, we're dealing with a whirlwind!". Very interesting to watch, and much more fun for us, with plenty of time to half our sail area before it came our way, than for the Tulus!

The next incident of note was a sudden scream. We turned and looked at each other for a moment, at a loss as to what it was that was making the noise, then I realised: Fish! The ratchet on the rod was going so fast we hadn't recognised it for what it was. It was streaming out behind us, something big had fancied the lure. Phil had hardly got the rod in his hands and I'd only just managed to strap on his 'mangina', as Cath calls them (a rod holder belt thing!), when the 75lb line snapped and what ever monster it was had gained his freedom. Sara Tulu was very sympathetic: "It must have been a marlin" she said, and "It was a blessing in disguise; what would you have done with something that size if you'd managed to get it to the boat?".